End of the Line
by Sarah LoTuS
Summary: Frank finds out about Rachel's demise from a newspaper headline. Think Romeo and Juliet. Tissue alert!


This little piece wrote itself after I watched Romeo and Juliet on TV. The fastest Water Rats fic I've written to date. Warning: It's a little unusual, and a little sad, too.

DISCLAIMER: They're not mine, though I wish they were. I could have a LOT of fun then!! (btw, if you wanna know what to buy me for Christmas...)

End of the Line   
08/11/1999 

Frank climbed into his rented car, barely glancing at the newspaper that lay on the passenger   
seat. The headline was permanently etched into his brain.   
SYDNEY DETECTIVE KILLED IN PASSPORT INVESTIGATION.   
He was on his way to the airport.   
Twenty minutes later he was at the departures desk demanding a seat on the next flight to   
Sydney. Luckily, the airline had had a cancellation, so he paid for a ticket on a flight leaving in   
an hour.   
"Any baggage?"   
"Nah, just what I've got with me, thanks," he told the girl.   
Three hours later, he was in Sydney.   
The flight had been Hellish. With only a boring inflight movie to distract him, he'd had nothing   
to do except think about Rachel. Her eyes; her smile; her biting, but endearing sarcasm. The   
tears in her eyes the last time he'd seen her.   
He decided against going to the office. He couldn't face everyone else's grief, or their   
sympathy. Besides, he knew where she'd be.   
* * *

Her father answered the door, and when Frank introduced himself, he just smiled sadly and   
ushered him inside.   
"Can... can I see her alone for a few minutes?" he asked.   
Felix led him through another door. She lay on a table, in the centre of the room, looking   
exactly as she had when he'd left her. The hair was a little longer, perhaps. David sat beside   
her, holding her hand. He looked up as they entered.   
"Frank," he said, subdued. His mother's eyes set into his youthful face, betraying a new   
maturity beyond his eleven years. He stood up and left the room with his grandfather;   
understanding Frank's need to say goodbye.   
Sitting in the chair that David had vacated, he studied her. She didn't look dead. In fact, he   
could almost convince himself she was only sleeping. On a whim, he leaned forward and   
kissed her. Maybe she'd wake, like Sleeping Beauty, smile, and they'd go off somewhere and   
live happily ever after. Unfortunately, her lips held no warmth, and she showed no sign of   
waking.   
He pulled a small bottle from his pocket, shook it up, and removed the lid.   
He stroked her hair gently, and whispered, "Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath,   
hath had no power yet upon thy beauty." He wasn't much of a Shakespeare buff, but he   
remembered the line from a recent movie adaptation of Romeo and Juliet, and it seemed   
appropriate. "Well, Rach," he sighed, "I guess this is the end of the line. I wish I'd been there   
for you. I'm sure Christey did his best, but maybe I could've done *something*. I guess I'll   
never know, now."   
Slowly, he brought the tiny bottle to his mouth, then he tipped his head back and drank the   
contents in one gulp.   
Arsenic, even in very small doses, is highly poisonous. Frank had added a quarter of a   
teaspoonful to the whiskey in the bottle--sufficient to cause death in a matter of minutes, if not   
less.   
Carefully, he laid his head on her chest, his hand still stroking her hair rhythmically. He closed   
his eyes, and all his happy days with his partner flashed before his eyes, ending with the smiling   
picture he'd seen in the newspaper that day. He moved nothing but his hand; more and more   
slowly; until finally it spasmed, and was still.   
* * *

_A glooming peace this morning with it brings_   
_The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head_   
_Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things_   
_Some shall be pardon'd, and some punished_   
_For never was a story of more woe_   
_Than this of Juliet and her Romeo_   
_ --William Shakespeare, "Romeo and Juliet"_

~finis

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